Lessons in Hypothermia
by Aedammair
Summary: Symptoms of hypothermia: shivering, confusion, poor decision making. Audrey's first winter in Haven promises to be an unforgettable experience.
1. Drowsiness

A/N: Not mine! And seriously, how great was that second season premiere? I miss my New England coastline...and, thankfully, Nova Scotia looks incredibly similar. Rugged men in flannel shirts is pretty great, too. ;-)

P.S. A small error in the details was brought to my attention and the slightly anal retentive writer side of me needed to fix it. Thanks, Johesaphana the Magnificellent - the editing assist is greatly appreciated!

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><p><em>Nathan's mouth is hot against her collar bone, his lips soft, his breath whispering words of encouragement as he works his way lower. The buttons on her shirt are no match for his skilled fingers and they disappear one by one, each exposing more and more skin to the warm heat of his tongue.<em>

_Her head goes blank as he reaches the top of her jeans, cool fingertips leaving icy tingles all along the bare skin below her belly button. He looks up at her from where he's settled between her thighs._

_His expression is a challenge._

_She raises her hips a fraction of an inch, accepts, and his fingers undo the button before him…_

_**BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ**_

Audrey's eyes fly open at the intrusion, her cheeks flushed in the cool air of her apartment. She sits up, rakes a hand through her messy hair, and turns to look out the window beside her. The world beyond The Gull is blanketed in white. She watches the snow fall, her eyes adjusting to the brightness, and takes it all in, tries to focus on anything but the remnant of the dream.

The phone buzzes again, captures her full attention. She grabs it, sees it's Nathan calling her, and has to take a deep breath to steady the butterflies in her stomach that immediately arrive before she flips it open to take the call.

"It's snowing," she says by way of greeting.

"Your powers of observation never cease to amaze me, Parker," her partner says, and she can practically see the smirk on his stony features. "Can you be ready in fifteen minutes?"

She looks down at her sweatpants and thinks – fleetingly – of her dream. "Can you give me twenty?"

"Sure. I'll pick up coffee on the way over."

She stands, stretches. "What's up?"

"Body out at the pier. Dress warm – I've been told it's cold outside."

He disconnects and she stares at the phone.

"One day," she mumbles on her way to find warmer clothing. "One day, I'll actually get to finish that dream."

There's a thin layer of snow over the blue tarp covering the body on the pier. Julia meets stands when they approach, her face almost completely obscured by the hood of her jacket.

"Definitely dead," she says and Audrey clamps down on a laugh. "I'm not sure what killed him, but I can tell you he's been that way for at least a day, maybe more."

"Drowning, you think?" Nathan asks as the three of them stare at the figure.

Julia shrugs. "Maybe. I know they pulled him out of the water, but I've got a feeling he was gone before he ended up in it." She motions for the EMTs to bring the stretcher down. "I've got an empty morgue at the minute, so I should have something to you in a few hours."

They turn and watch the EMTs struggle with the – obviously – frozen body. Julia frowns. "Amend that," she says. "I'll have something for you the minute he thaws out."

She follows the stretcher up the pier and Nathan turns to look at Audrey. He points to her feet.

"Boots look good," he says.

She grins. "Yup. Warm, too." She looks up at him from under the hood of her jacket, snow catching on her eyelashes. "Where's your hat, Wurnous?" she asks.

"Real men don't wear hats," he says.

"How do real men feel about hypothermia?"

He smirks. "We're all for it, so long as there's eventually a way to get warm."

The whisper of her earlier dream drifts across the backs of her eyes and she flushes, has to look away. She sticks her hands in her pockets, motions up the pier with an elbow.

"Let's head in to the office, get the paperwork started."

"You're looking a little pink, Parker."

"My face is freezing."

The smirk on his face never wavers. "I was thinking a little flushed, actually."

"I'm going to go wait in the truck," she says, walking away. "Feel free to join me when you're less busy analyzing my face."

She hears his laugh even through the hood of her parka and it makes the flush on her cheeks worse.


	2. Confusion

I know, I know - took me long enough. :)

They're not mine, obviously...

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><p>"You look exhausted, Parker," Nathan says as they walk into the station, unwrapping layers as they go. "How much sleep did you get?"<p>

She resists the urge to look up at him and shrugs. "A few hours."

"Last night?" he asks. He holds the door to the bullpen open for her, crooks his elbow so she can pass under his arm easily.

"This week," she says. He follows her into what used to be their office and watches her hang up her scarf and coat. She leaves her hat on for extra warmth, her blond hair spilling out from under the green wool.

Nathan leans against the doorframe, frowns. "Take a nap," he says. She cocks an eyebrow at him and he huffs a short laugh. "You heard Julia, she's gotta wait for that guy to thaw out before she can do anything."

"What about the paperwork?"

He holds up his hands. "Believe it or not, these work." He wiggles his fingers and she laughs, relents. "I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."

"With lunch and coffee?"

He grins, nods. "With lunch and coffee."

She crosses to the couch, pulls the afghan from the back of it, and curls up with her head on the arm, the hat still pulled down over her hair. The thick green wool is enough to the cold out, but she's still able to feel Nathan's hand rest on her head lightly before he leaves and shuts the door behind him.

It makes her smile.

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><p>…<em>the jeans skim down her thighs, the denim hitching against her smooth skim as they leave her legs completely. His mouth trails a line up the inside of her leg, leaves her skin before it reaches the one place she wants it. She groans in frustration and feels him smile against her abdomen.<em>

_Fingers find the sides of her underwear, hook in the lace, and pull. They're gone before she knows it and she lays bare before him. He pauses, rests his chin on her stomach, and looks at her, an eyebrow arched._

_She reaches out, threads her hands through his hair and nods. He keeps his eyes locked with hers as his head moves lower…_

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><p>"Audrey?"<p>

She sits up, panting, flushed, and Nathan, thinking there's something wrong, sits down and reaches for her. She pulls her legs away from his reach, wraps her arms around them, and shakes her head. _I need a minute_, her posture says and he nods, waits.

Eventually, her heart rate regulates and her blush recedes and she finds herself finally able to look her partner in the eyes…barely.

"Bad dream?" he asks and she nods, because it's the only thing she can manage. He stares at her a minute longer, seems to believe her. "Julia called. She's got some results for us."

"How long was I asleep?" she asks, her voice hoarse.

"A couple of hours."

She frowns, considers the last two dreams she's had, and wonders if there's something else at work. Nathan, as if sensing this, leans back and adopts the expression of a man piecing together a puzzle.

"What's going on, Parker?" he asks.

"I'm not exactly sure, but I think we've finally found a trouble I'm not immune to."

His eyebrows go up in surprise. "Oh?"

"Insomnia."

"Funny," he says, standing and heading for the door.

"Oh come on," she says, following him, grabbing her coat and scarf on the way by, "it was a little funny."

Nathan shakes his head, leads the way out of the station. She meant it as a joke, but a small part of her thinks that maybe it really is a trouble – her dreams are occasionally vivid, but not to the point where she finds herself on the verge of an orgasm in her office. An orgasm provided by her partner and best friend, Chief of Police Nathan Wurnous.

A trouble would at least save her the life-altering embarrassment.

"Hey wait," she says as they reach the Bronco and Nathan opens her door for her. He looks at her, waits for her to continue. "Where's my lunch and coffee?"

He points to the inside of the truck where a white bag and a Styrofoam cup sit waiting for her. "Chicken soup, bread, and coffee – from Rosemary's."

"Marry me, Nathan," she says, getting into the truck and immediately opening the bag. She has a bite of bread in her mouth when he climbs into the truck and turns to grin at her.

"In your dreams, Parker."

She manages not to choke on the bread, thankfully.


	3. Lack of Concern

I promise, there's a direction for this monstrosity. :)

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><p>While Nathan signs the paperwork for the very deceased Mr. Gerald Mackenzie, Audrey steals Julia and drags her into the Medical Examiner's office where she shuts the door behind them and makes Julia swear to secrecy.<p>

"Promise," Audrey says.

Julia criss-crosses her index finger over her scrub-covered heart. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

Audrey pauses and Julia grins. "Okay. Here it goes."

She tells Julia about the dreams, how one almost always follows the other before it, how vivid they are. She leaves out the bit about nearly losing it on the couch in her office, but Julia's a smart woman and she can pretty much figure it out on her own. When Audrey's done her story, Julia grabs a file folder off her desk and fans herself with it.

"I have dreams like that all the time," she says.

Audrey starts. "Really?"

"Oh sure. Brad Pitt, George Clooney. Antonio Banderas is always my favorite. Latin men know how to move."

Audrey frowns, her cheeks going pink, and she sighs. "Funny. What do you think it all means?"

"That you should rip Nathan's clothes off and acquiesce to his request."

"Julia, be serious."

Julia smirks. "I'm completely serious. He's had it bad for you right along, Audrey."

Audrey ignores this, files it away as something to be dealt with later. "What if it's someone's Trouble?"

Julia's smirk fades. "I didn't think they affected you."

"There's always an exception to the rule," Audrey says, running a hand through her hair. "Maybe this is the exception."

"Because it deals with Nathan?" Julia asks. Audrey shrugs, says nothing. Julia considers her, taps her finger against her chin. "Hmmm…a Trouble that causes lifelike erotic dreams. Terrible."

Audrey sighs. "You're useless."

"And you're complaining about dreams involving hot nakedness with one of Haven's most eligible bachelors."

"It's not even _real_, Julia!" Audrey says, exasperated.

"Yet," Julia amends. "It's not real _yet_."

"What's not real?" Nathan asks from the doorway. Both women whirl in his direction, one pink with embarrassment and the other wearing a disturbingly feline grin.

"Winter," Julia says, covering for an oddly speechless Audrey. "She was saying how it doesn't seem real."

He looks at them both, examining them for tells. He finds nothing more than he did a moment ago. "It's fifteen degrees outside, Parker – should seem real enough."

"Good to go?" Audrey asks Nathan, finally finding her voice. She can feel Julia smiling at her and she pointedly ignores it. "We've still got a report to finish and it's well after nine. We're working on six hours of overtime as it is."

Nathan nods. "Autopsy report is pretty cut and dry, no pun intended." Julia rolls her eyes at him. "Mr. Mackenzie drowned."

"No evidence of foul play at the moment," Julia says. "But I've got some test results and fingerprints I'm waiting on, so you'll have to wait for a final decision until tomorrow morning when everything opens up for the week."

"Sounds good," Audrey says. She turns to Julia. "If you think of anything, call me."

Julia nods, grinning. "Will do, Audrey. Be sure and get some sleep. A well managed REM cycle does a body good."

Audrey growls, heads out the door. She hears Nathan say good-bye, then turns to see him pause at the door.

"REM cycle?" he asks.

"Dreams," Julia says. "Lots and lots of dreams."

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><p>"I'll write up the report," Nathan says as he parks the truck outside The Gull.<p>

The lights are on and there are a few cars parked in the lot, despite the falling snow. It started on their way back into town from the hospital, big white flakes crashing against the windshield as Nathan drove them east. Now, sitting still and taking a moment, Audrey watches the flakes drift down, wonders if Duke is finally home from his recent disappearing act. He'd taken off for warmer climates a week earlier and she hadn't heard from him since…which was probably a good thing.

"You should get some real sleep."

"Am I on the early or mid shift tomorrow?" she asks, pulling her coat tighter around herself in anticipation of getting out of the truck. Without the heat running, she could see her breath pooling in the cab. Winter was certainly upon them.

"I moved you to mid before we left for the morgue."

She smiles at him. "You're a saint."

"Knight in tarnished armor," he says with a wry smile.

She frowns at his self deprecating dig. He's been doing more of that, ever since Chris left for greener (saner) pastures. She tried smacking him every time he said something negative, but it didn't work.

"You want a drink?" she asks, surprising them both. It sounds almost like a come-on, a really terrible, overly used pickup line. He eyes her, half a smirk building, and even in the chill of the Bronco she feels her cheeks flush. She makes a note to buy blush for the first time in her life in the hopes it'll hide her constant embarrassment. "I'm too tired to sleep and I want a beer and I don't really feel like drinking alone."

He stares at her a moment longer, then unbuckles his seatbelt, turns off the truck. He opens the door and slips out into the cold, giving Audrey a few seconds to herself in the empty interior. She watches him through the foggy window, his profile silhouetted by the lights of The Gull, and she feels something build in her chest.

She may not know who she really is, but she knows that feeling. Has felt it before and sitting here, now, while feeling it for Nathan makes her head spin. He taps on the window, then, and startles her out of her reverie.

"You okay?" he asks as she rounds the truck and they head toward the stairs to her apartment.

"Yes, Nathan. You worry too much."

"No such thing where you're concerned."

She finds herself unable to make a witty retort, unlocks her front door instead. "Beer or wine or something harder?" she asks, shedding layers on her way toward the open kitchen. The moment in the car scared her, which has immediately brought up her defenses. She fights against it, but she can't keep the walls from coming up.

"Beer," Nathan says, shutting the door behind him. "Dark if you've got it."

She pulls two porters from her fridge, pops the tops, and crosses the apartment to hand one to him. She feels him staring at her as she takes a sip. "What?"

"You look like hell," he says.

She sighs. "Between you and Julia, my feelings are getting hurt."

He ignores her, presses on. "Are you sleeping more than a couple of hours?" he asks.

"We had this discussion."

"What's going on?"

She considers him, considers telling him about the dreams she's been having. The fact that they're both half naked in them keeps her from spilling her secrets. That, and her cell phone rings.

"Saved by the bell," Nathan says, and there's frustration and annoyance in his voice. She frowns at him as her phone continues to ring and he takes a long sip off the bottle of beer, shrugs as if to say 'who, me?'. Exhausted, frustrated and annoyed herself, it instantly pisses her off.

"You and I need to have a conversation at some point," she says, pointing a finger at him. "A fairly long and involved conversation." He opens his mouth to retort, but she answers her phone before he has a chance to say much more than 'gah'. "Parker."

"You should be asleep," Julia says. "Or at the very least, on your way to being half naked with a handsome man."

She rubs her forehead, turns away from Nathan so he can't see the expression that crosses her face at the mention of being half naked. "It's almost midnight, Julia. You're not calling just to check up on me."

"You sound angry. Are you getting ready to lock yourself in a cupcake room again?"

"Julia…"

"Fine. Don't let me worry about you. Whatever." Audrey laughs, despite her irritation. "Deceased female, late twenties, washed up on the shore down at Innis Cove."

"Another one?" Audrey asks.

"Yup. Looks like it might be a repeat of our friend at the pier."

She sighs, looks at Nathan. He's staring at her with an unreadable expression, his jaw set and one eyebrow raised. "We'll be there in a few minutes." She hangs up, frowns. "We've got another body."

He sets the bottle down. "Raincheck on the beer, I guess."

"Yup."

She wraps her scarf around her neck, hides her mouth – hides herself – within the layers. She's irrationally angry with her best friend and despite that, the way he's looking at her is making the hair on her neck stand up. She can't decide what would make her happier at the moment: smack him or jump on him. She's a little ashamed to say the latter…definitely the latter.

"Raincheck on the conversation, too," he says.

She nods. "Yup." Her voice is muffled by the scarf.

He holds her jacket out for her and she snatches it out of his hand before whirling out the front door. "Really looking forward to both of those things," he calls after her, following her outside and back into the cold.


	4. Slow Shallow Breathing

**What is this craziness? Two new chapters in two days? Insanity, I say! :)**

**Thanks for all the amazingly positive reviews - you guys rock the Casba!**

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><p>"We need to stop meeting like this," Julia comments as they approach the crime scene. She's bundled up more than she was earlier in the day, her pretty face barely visible through the scarf and hat. Audrey pauses in front of her but Nathan keeps walking, his steady stride bringing him to the crime scene in a few seconds. Julia watches him go, then turns to frown at Audrey. "What did I miss?"<p>

"Nothing," Audrey says.

"First you sound angry when you answer the phone and now he's playing strong and silent for no particular reason. Something happened."

"I'm exhausted and I'm cranky and I'm taking it out on people." She shoves her hands into her pockets, glares at Julia. "I've already brow-beaten Nathan for the day. You calling dibs on next?"

Julia's expression never wavers, her eyes never leave Audrey's. The only indication she's heard any of what Audrey's just said is the twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Eventually, she sighs and points over her shoulder.

"Come on. I'll fill you in on what little I know so far."

They trudge across the cold, wet sand to where Nathan stands with the others. It's dark around them, but someone – probably the first uniforms on scene – set up a few track lights so they could see what they were doing. Audrey chances a glance at her partner and in the harsh light he looks like he's carved out of stone. She wonders if he even realizes he's clenching his jaw that tightly.

"You're going to break your teeth," she says quietly when she's close enough for him to hear her. He turns his head minutely in her direction. "You're clenching your jaw."

He opens his mouth, flexes the muscle a few times, and rubs at it with his gloved hand. When he looks at her again, there's a small smile on his face. "Thanks."

She feels the bottom of her anger drop out from beneath her. "I'm sorry for earlier," she says.

"Me too."

She grins, bumps his arm lightly with her shoulder. When she realizes Julia is watching them, she focuses. "You were saying something about filling us in," she says.

"The deceased is Jenna Smythe, twenty-six. She's a local, daughter of a lobsterman according to your uniformed guys." Julia crouches down, points to the exposed skin along the woman's throat. "There's bruising, but I need lights and a lab to determine what kind. I'd say the preliminary COD is drowning, but who knows."

"Two in one day," Nathan says. "Seems a little odd."

Julia nods, straightens. "She's frozen solid, too. I'll need to get her thawed out before I can do anything with her." She motions to the waiting EMTs and they step in, bag the body, and disappear with it into the dark, towards the waiting ambulance in the distance. "I'm not sure if it means anything," she says once she's alone with Audrey and Nathan, "but she's got something clutched in the fingers of her right hand. I wrapped it up in a bag, just in case."

"Something?" Nathan asks.

Julia shrugs. "I'll know better in a few hours." She looks at Audrey. "I wasn't kidding when I said you needed sleep." She pulls her glove off, reaches into the pocket of her parka, and pulls out a slip of paper. "Ambien," she says, handing it to Audrey. "Get the prescription filled, work your shift tomorrow – or today, whichever the hell it is – and then go home and take one of those. You need a solid eight hours and you're not getting it on your own right now."

"I'm fine, Julia," she says, but even she knows it's a lie at this point.

"Doctor's orders, Audrey." She puts her glove back on and looks at Nathan. "If she forgets to fill it, do it for her." She waits for him to nod before disappearing up the dunes towards her own car.

Audrey stares at the prescription in her hand. She can feel Nathan looking at her, but she's afraid to meet his gaze. She knows she's past the point of exhaustion right now. She knows her friends are just trying to help because they care. She also knows there's no rationalizing a lack of sleep for a cop who just so happens to be the only solution to the Troubles. She knows all of these things.

But she's ever so slightly afraid to go to sleep at the moment because every time she closes her eyes for longer than a few minutes, she finds herself in bed with Nathan, a little more naked than the time before. If the last dream was any indication, she's in for something entirely X-rated the next time she falls asleep and while part of her is oh so ready for such a thing, another – larger – part of her isn't prepared for the absolute mortification she's going to feel when she meets up with the real thing in the morning.

"I can practically hear you thinking," Nathan says.

_Oh dear lord, I hope not…_

"I'm suddenly craving pancakes," she says, finally looking up at him.

He stares at her. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He motions towards the car. "You know how much I love pancakes," he says. "And I know just the place."

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><p>She stares at the green shingled cottage with trepidation. The minute he turned down Cliffside Road, butterflies picked up in her stomach. She's been here twice before, never for longer than a few minutes, and now the prospect of spending an hour or so within those four walls is enough to make her whole body hum with nerves.<p>

"This is your house," she says when he opens the Bronco door for her. She feels like kicking herself for being an idiot when a smirk ghosts across his mouth. "I thought we were going _out_ for pancakes."

"Technically, all I said was I knew just the place." He holds his hand out and she eyes it warily for a few moments before taking it and stepping down out of the truck. "This way, you get some food and a nice, quiet place to get some sleep."

She can do this. She can sit in Nathan's house, eat some pancakes, and take a nap without making a complete and utter fool out of herself. It's a few hours, that's all. She'll be fine.

Unless she turns into a horny teenager and jumps on him, then maybe not so much.

"You coming?" he asks, tugging on the hand still holding his.

"Yeah," she says. "Let's see how good these pancakes are."

_When his mouth finds the apex of her thighs, her head explodes. She feels the warmth of his tongue against the warmth of her sex and it feels like she's on fire. He holds her pelvis to the bed with his hands while his mouth does all the work. He brings her to the brink, then leaves her wanting. By the time he moves his hand to curl a finger inside her, she's over the edge and speaking nonsense words to whatever may be above them in the world._

_He smoothes his hands over her, kisses her hips, her stomach, her breasts, as he makes his way up to her mouth. He lingers there, his breath mingling with hers as she attempts to get herself under control. He smiles as he kisses her._

"_You're so beautiful," he whispers. "My beautiful Alice…"_

Audrey wakes in a tangle of blankets, sweating and panting and trying desperately to cling to the last moment of the dream, to the name he'd whispered against her mouth. A name that most definitely wasn't hers. For weeks now, she'd been under the assumption it was her in the dream, believed that within those hazy moments everything was happening to _her_. Now, with her heart pounding against her chest and her whole body throbbing from an orgasm that wasn't even real, she realizes none of this was ever hers.

The dreams – and all their erotic glory – belong to someone else.

It's early morning, the light of dawn just barely making it through the gray clouds and Nathan's dark gray curtains. Later, when she's had a few minutes to calm down, she'll regret leaving the way she does but in this precise moment all she can think about is the gnawing sense of envy growing in her stomach and the odd feeling of disappointment settling down on her shoulders.

Like a college student slinking away from a one night stand, Audrey quietly collects her boots, bundles herself up in her jacket and winter gear, and leaves Nathan's cottage without waking him.


	5. Stumbling

**I know what you're thinking - three chapters in three days, holy shite!**

**Sometimes, you just gotta write. And dance. Pretty much always you just gotta dance.**

**Many thanks to the reviewers and ladynep, you got your wish. :)**

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><p>She takes the morning to studiously avoid the station and Nathan. She fills her prescription, shops for groceries, takes a hot bath, and cleans her apartment. Her shift starts at three and she heads into town around two-thirty, finally prepared to face her partner. He's behind closed doors when she arrives at the station and she clocks in, puts together two cups of coffee. Julia's preliminary report is in her inbox and she flips through it, settling on the analysis of what Julia found clutched in the girl's hand.<p>

She's only able to read a few lines, though, before a woman with curly red hair and unnaturally bright green eyes steps into her field of vision and commands her attention with little more than a smile.

"You work with Chief Wurnous," she says. It isn't a question. Her voice drips with charm, but the saccharine quality of it puts Audrey on alert. It sounds like she's fishing. "You're Officer Parker."

Audrey smiles tightly, not friendly but polite. "Have we met?" she asks.

The woman shakes her head and those red curls bounce against the gray wool shoulders of her coat. "Nathan and I grew up together," she says. "I was downtown and thought I'd stop in to say hello, but it looks like he's busy."

Audrey forces herself to relax, manages a little more warmth in her smile. "So you're a local," she says, reverting to her terrible small talk skills.

The woman grins. "Us local girls," she says. "Could you tell him I stopped by?" she asks.

Audrey nods. "Sure." The woman turns to leave. Audrey remembers something, stops her. "I didn't get your name," she says.

"Alice." The hair on the back of Audrey's neck stands on end, fueled by suspicion and a touch of something else. "Alice White." She smiles, her teeth bright and white and oddly sharp. "It was nice to meet you, Audrey." She waves, then, and disappears through the double doors at the front of the station.

Audrey watches her go and despite the warmth of the station, she feels a solid chill run down her spine. The woman's name in her dream was Alice and while it was absolutely possible she'd heard Audrey's name mentioned around town, Audrey herself had never said it. But that wasn't what bothered her most. She's remembering something from Julia's report on Jenna Smythe, from the analysis of the item clutched in her frozen hand. It had seemed innocuous at the time, a random clue in an odd investigation, but now it made her wonder.

The something Julia had found in Jenna's hand was a chunk of hair.

Red hair.

"Was that…" Nathan starts. She hadn't heard him come up and his voice startles her.

"Alice White," she says, finishing his statement. "Old friend of yours?"

"Not quite."

She hands him the mug in her left hand, the one full of plain black coffee. She's still staring at the door Alice White just left through, her mind stuck on the red curls. Nathan frowns at her profile.

"Why do I feel like I missed something?"

She turns then, realizes he's about to drink scalding hot coffee, and stops him by grabbing the hand holding the mug. "Too hot," she says.

If she notices him flinch at the contact, she doesn't mention it. "Thanks."

"She has red hair."

He raises an eyebrow. "Always has."

"I just read the analysis from Julia. That stuff clutched in Jenna Smythe's hand was red hair."

He frowns, pulls her into his office and shuts the door behind them. "Okay. Before we go down this particular rabbit hole –"

"Cute."

" – let's hear your evidence."

Audrey pauses. "You mean something other than the red hair…"

"Lot of people with Scotch-Irish heritages in this town, Parker. That means there's a lot of gingers running around."

Audrey takes a deep breath, realizes he's right. At least for the moment. "Would it matter if I said she gave off a seriously creepy vibe?"

"Same thing I did about her having red hair – always has."

"Good to know you're on board," she says and smiles before taking a long sip of her coffee. "Definitely cool enough to drink now."

"You snuck out of my house this morning," he says.

She swallows coffee too quickly, burns her throat. "I wanted to let you sleep."

"And you avoided me all morning."

"You put me on mid shift."

"And that's stopped you from coming in early when?"

They stare at each other for a few quiet seconds and the air in the office changes, tenses. She's been hiding something from him, hoping he won't notice, but he has. Her skin is warmer, her cheeks flushed more often than not. It isn't just exhaustion – there's something else going on.

"I believe you owe me a raincheck on a beer," he says, breaking the silence.

"Yup."

And a conversation, if I'm remembering correctly."

She sighs. "I'm off at eleven. Come by the apartment and I'll make dinner." He stares at her, an eyebrow cocked. She rolls her eyes. "Fine. I'll _buy _dinner and put it on plates from my kitchen."

"You'll tell me what's going on?"

"I'll drink a couple of beers and yes, I'll tell you what's going on."

He whistles. "Audrey Parker, in need of liquid courage." She doesn't like what the smirk on his face does to her. "Can't wait."


	6. Clumsiness

**Okay my darlings. This may be the last update for a little while. I promise not to leave you in months of suspense this time, though. :)**

**Thank you for all the awesome reviews and encouragement and amazingly nice things you've all said (written)! It's always nice to know people don't think you suck. Dance, dance, y'all.**

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><p>The oak double doors to the Haven Public Library open and Alice White breezes through, stopping most of the activity within the ancient building while its occupants take a moment to stop and stare. She smiles at Phyllis McCaan, the head librarian, before making her way through the first floor stacks to the Employees Only door in the back. The wood and glass door is partially hidden by a bookshelf full of town histories, but she knows exactly where she's going. She's come here, to the library, every Thursday evening since she was five years old. The antique door with its gold leaf lettering is ingrained in her mind, so much so that she occasionally sees it in her sleep.<p>

She turns the brass knob and enters the spacious room beyond it, is immediately greeted by a heady wall of peppermint, jasmine, honey, and black tea. Eleven women, all shapes and ages and sizes, sit in arm chairs placed around the room. There is a quiet din of conversation within the room, which ceases almost immediately upon her arrival.

"You're late," Rose Pinkerton says from an armchair in the back of the room.

Alice takes off her coat, hangs it on the standing coat rack near the door. "My apologies. I had an errand to run." She picks up the now lukewarm teapot, pours herself a cup of strong black tea.

"They've found Gerald." This from Adelaide Green, the organist for the Rev's church.

"And the Smythe girl," Rose adds.

The eyes on Alice narrow, the expressions wary. She busies herself with her tea, ignores the eleven unhappy faces staring at her.

"No one knows or suspects anything," she says eventually. "As far as the police are concerned, Gerald and Jenna both drowned in the Atlantic."

"Lucy Ripley is involved," Margaret Hunt says, speaking for the first time since her arrival an hour earlier. She'd been the first to enter the room, was often the first. She is the oldest of the women, quickly approaching her ninetieth birthday, and she commands the most respect from the others. She is also Alice's grandmother, a fact neither of them admits to in mixed company. "Or perhaps you've forgotten just how tenacious that woman can be. " She sips her tea, stares with unwavering green eyes at her granddaughter. "Her name may have changed, but she's still the same woman."

Alice lifts the teacup to her mouth, her lips curving into a feline smile above the rim. In the haze of steam rising up off the dark liquid, her green eyes glow unnaturally.

"I'm taking care of it," she says.

The noise level rises immediately. "Without us?" a chorus of voices asks, each louder than the other.

"There's no need to get involved, sisters," she says, smiling serenely. Only the yellow-green flash of her eyes betrays any kind of emotion. "Everything is going _quite_ according to plan."

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><p>Audrey thought keeping Nathan in the dark was difficult – the right idea, but difficult. Now, as he stares at her with a slack jaw and wide eyes after having been told the sordid details of her recent insomnia problems, Audrey decides she'd rather go back to that moment in time twenty minutes earlier when he didn't know anything other than what she was serving for dinner.<p>

"Wow…" he says.

"I know."

"Just...wow..."

She takes a long pull of her beer. True to her word, she'd downed one earlier, before he'd arrived, and was working on her second. They hadn't even eaten yet. At this rate, she'd be passed out before the full embarrassment of the situation could fully set in.

"So you were…"

"Yeah."

"And we were…"

"Uh-huh."

"And I was doing…"

"Yup."

Nathan's eyes remain wide and he takes a drink. An awkward silence settles over them and Audrey stares at the floor. After a few minutes, Nathan's hand reaches out and settles on her shoulder. She looks up and the relief she feels by the expression on her face is immense. He's smiling, not smirking like she knows Duke would if it were him instead of Nathan, but actually smiling.

She rolls her eyes, reaches across the table and smacks his cheek, a little harder than necessary.

"Ow! What was that for?"

She thinks of her dream, of how lovingly he'd looked at her – at Alice – and she feels that ugly jealousy from earlier rear its ugly head again.

"It wasn't me," she says.

"What do you mean?" he asks, rubbing his cheek where she smacked him.

"In the dream. It wasn't actually me that you were…doing that to."

She wonders if it's at all possible to die of embarrassment and, if so, does she have time to write a meager will leaving her _Twilight_ novels to Duke as punishment for all his misdeeds?

To Nathan's credit, he's actually trying to wrap his head around it. "So if it wasn't you, then who was it?"

"You called me 'Alice'."

"Alice?" She nods, waits for him to understand what she's implying. "Alice." It takes him just another second or so. "Holy shit, _Alice_."

"Bingo."

He wipes his hand over his face and leans back on the couch. Audrey takes a moment to look at him, to consider him as part of her space, and she hates to admit to herself just how good he looks within her apartment. It would be easy – so goddamn easy – to just let whatever might be waiting there between them happen.

It's the _after_ that worries her.

"I wish Eleanor was still around," he says suddenly, his face tilted towards the ceiling.

Audrey cocks her head to the side, confused. "Why?"

He looks away from the ceiling, looks at her. "Because I feel like I'm missing a memory, like there's something about all of this that should make sense. She'd know, or at the very least she'd have an idea."

"I've got a couple boxes of Eleanor's old files," she says. "Julia's been bringing them to me, a little bit at a time."

"You've been holding out on me? Seriously?"

She jumps up from the chair and hurries into her office space. When she returns, she's carrying two boxes covered in dust and grime. She places them on the coffee table and they both stare at them, apprehensive.

"That's a lot of files," he says eventually.

"Yup." She rolls her shoulders. "Good thing there's food. This might take all night."

His eyebrow goes up and a smirk – a dirty smirk – flashes and disappears so quickly Audrey's not even sure it's real. "You're being kind of presumptuous."

She looks at him. "Huh?"

"Asking me to spend the night?"

"What? No!"

"Because I can."

She's mortified; absolutely, positively mortified. "Nathan…"

"Don't worry, though. I'll just sneak out when the sun comes up…"

"You're an ass…"

"…make sure I don't wake you."

"I hate you."

"And then I'll avoid you for most of the day…"

She glares at him. "You done?"

This time, the smirk sticks. "Yup."

"Good." She smacks him in the chest with a particularly large file folder, fights a smile of her own. "Get cracking."


	7. Mumbling

Raise your hand if you thought it would be decades before I published another chapter. :)

Thank you for all the amazing reviews. Thanks to SandraDee and Elementary Magpie, who are both outstanding writers in their own right (go read them right now if you haven't already). Just thank you overall - I never expected so many of you to read it, much less take the time to review it. Writing is a lonely profession - it's nice to know someone reads what you've abandoned aspects of your life to put to paper. :D

Much love from this lonely writer.

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><p><em>He takes advantage of her while she's still floating and before she has a moment to process, he's inside her. The moan that leaves his throat is feral and it causes her body to flush once more. She opens her mouth, throws her head back, and he nips at her exposed throat. There's a moment where they're still and she's tight and hot around him.<em>

_He licks the hollow of her throat and her hips buck and he thrusts as deep as he can without disappearing into her. He kisses her, swallows her cries, and she pushes him to move faster, harder. He feels the edge approaching, looks up to see her red hair fanned against the ivory sheets like a halo of fire, and he falls…falls and falls and falls, climaxes as she screams his name._

"_Nathan!"_

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><p>Honestly, he's not sure who's more embarrassed – him, for waking up with a raging hard-on that he can't feel while sleeping next to his partner on her couch or Audrey, for waking up with his name on her lips.<p>

It's a tie, really.

Audrey makes the mistake of looking down and then immediately looking back up and away, motioning with her hand to suggest he might want to cover up for a little while. She can't look at him, her face turned in the opposite direction because looking at him right now would reduce her to a hormonal teenager and she'd most likely offer to take care of his…er…problem.

"I believed you before," he says, hastily grabbing a throw pillow, "but now I'm one hundred percent convinced there's something crazy going on." He runs a hand over his face. "That was…"

"Hot? Embarrassing?" she asks, her voice higher than she would have liked.

"Both?"

She laughs, then, and the tension in the room dissipates a little. Unable to take it any longer, she finally looks back at him. His cheeks are an adorable shade of pink and the chagrinned expression he wears make it even harder for her to remain stoic about the whole thing.

"I could make us breakfast," she says. "Or you could slink off like a frat boy the morning after Homecoming."

"Pancakes?" he asks, the pink slowly disappearing from his face.

She grins. "I believe I can do that." She bolts from the couch and takes comfort in the busy work of making breakfast. "Ignoring all of...that...my question is this," she says, pulling ingredients down from cabinets, "how do the two drownings connect to Alice White?"

"Maybe she's Troubled," he suggests.

When he thinks she isn't looking, he lifts the pillow and looks down, seems comforted by what he sees. Audrey smiles to herself and averts her eyes quickly so he won't realize she's seen him. He stands, stretches. She pretends not to see the sliver of bare skin that appears between the bottom of his shirt and the top of his jeans, pretends it doesn't do anything to her. She thinks maybe they've become experts at pretending not to see things.

"She might be causing the drownings without realizing it." He walks towards the kitchen.

"What about the dreams?" Audrey asks.

He shrugs. "I've heard I'm a desirable man."

She looks at him and shakes her head when he grins, continues measuring out flour into a large stone bowl. "How long have you known Alice?"

"Since we were children. She hasn't changed much." He pauses and she looks up from the bowl. "Come to think of it…she hasn't changed at all."

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><p>Nathan pulls up to the sidewalk outside The Herald and idles. "I'll get cleaned up and meet you at the station in an hour," he says. Audrey nods, reaches for the door handle. He reaches out, puts his hand on her arm. She can feel him through the layers of wool and goose down, his skin is so warm. "Don't go looking for Alice without me," he says.<p>

She stares at him, is surprised by the expression in his eyes. "You're worried," she says and he lets go of her. "I'll be at the station in an hour." She grabs his bare hand with hers and squeezes. "I promise."

She's out of the Bronco and inside The Herald before he has time to change his mind and she watches the giant blue truck drive off down the street. Behind her, Vince Teague clears his throat.

"Good morning, Vince," Audrey says, turning to smile at the newsman.

" Audrey," he says. "Always nice to see you." He smiles back but it's weary and doesn't meet his eyes.

"I have a minor research request."

The weary expression dissolves, replaced by interest. "Oh?"

"Drownings," she says. "Connected to a specific family surname."

Vince types away on the keyboard on his desk. "What's the surname?"

"White."

His hands falter and he looks up at her. "White? Are you sure?" She nods, confused. His hands are still on the keys and he pulls them away, rests them in his lap. "We always wondered…" He disappears into his thoughts.

When he doesn't immediately emerge, Audrey takes a step closer, hooked. "Wondered what, Vince?"

He snaps back to it, starts typing again. When he motions for Audrey to come around and look at the monitor, she's not entirely ready for what she finds.

"But that's impossible," she says, her head refusing to readily wrap itself around what she's seeing.

"I'd agree with you, Audrey," Vince says, "but…"

"It's Haven." She stares at the words on the screen, repeats them to herself. "Nothing is impossible."


	8. Difficulty Thinking

_This is one of those chapters that I don't love...but it kind of needed to happen. Like the first time you have sex - it isn't great, but you're glad you got through it. :) Also, I'm upping the rating - I hope that doesn't screw anyone up. It's gonna get hot up in here later on...best be prepared._

_Thanks for all the amazingly positive reviews! A girl could get used to this kind of positive reinforcement. It's doing wonders for my self esteem. Happy Friday to everyone. I just saw my favorite Kahlua commercial (the one with the Spanish woman who says everything in Spanish because it's way sexier and awesomer)...and I'm realizing that it might say some unfortunate things about me that I have a favorite Kahlua commercial._

_Party on, people. Party on._

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><p>Vince told her, as she prepared to leave The Herald offices and walk four blocks down to the Haven Public Library, that the head librarian Phyllis McCaan was unpleasant on her best day. He also mentioned that she may or may not be the oldest living relative of Jesus. Audrey, always willing to give someone the benefit of the doubt, thought maybe Vince was exaggerating as the Teague brothers often want to do.<p>

But he wasn't. At all.

"Excuse me," she says, pulling her hood down and taking her gloves off, stuffing them in a pocket of her coat, "I'm looking for the folklore section."

Phyllis McCaan turns to look at her, crystal clear blue eyes blinking owlishly behind antique cat's eye frames. Her gray hair is pulled tight in a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Her skin is wrinkled and appears brittle, like aged paper. The way she stares at Audrey reminds her of a bird…a very alert, very aware bird. It's disconcerting.

Audrey sometimes wonders if the characters in "Twin Peaks" were based on the people of Haven.

She points towards the back of the main floor, where the stacks are thicker and the light is dimmer, and Audrey follows her line of sight. There's the faintest outline of a door back there, golden light glowing through the pebbled glass window.

"How far back do you need to go?" the librarian asks, head tilted to the side.

"Late eighteen hundreds, maybe."

Phyllis regards her a moment longer with her sharp blue eyes, seems to come to an acceptable conclusion about Audrey's motivations (of which, the latter has said nothing), and nods. "There are town histories back there, as well."

"Thank you, Ms. McCaan," Audrey says, moving towards the back shelves but the librarian's voice stops her.

"Stay away from the door, Officer Parker," she says and Audrey looks back at her. The librarian's head is down, her eyes focused on the books before her. The library goes quiet, the air stills. When Phyllis McCaan looks up from the books and meets Audrey's gaze, she looks younger.

"Let me know if I can be of any further assistance."

Audrey blinks and the librarian is an old woman again, the hushed voices of the few people in the library rise up again. She stares at her a moment longer before disappearing into the stacks in search of answers. She settles in at a table near the forbidden door, around the corner and hidden away from the rest of the library. She hunts and gathers books, lays out a fort of tomes along the edges of the table, and gets to work.

She searches through three histories before she finds a hint of what she's looking for, halfway through a book on Haven in the 1890s. It's a short entry, what you'd see within a personal diary, and the six sentences it's comprised of are nestled within a chapter on Haven's weather patterns from 1895. Audrey pulls her notepad closer, copies the passage.

"_The Water Witches arrived in boats of all shapes and sizes. Some were long and graceful narrowboats, brightly painted with roses and castles. Others were newer, plastic boats, but were nevertheless loved and taken care of by their owners. One thing I did notice was that almost all of them had a wheel design containing six spokes painted on them, usually at the front. I knew this to be a religious symbol. In former days the families met together in a "conventicle" like this once a month, on the new moon, at a location chosen in advance."_

She's underlining the words "water witches" when the Employees Only door creaks open and the sound of footsteps echos in the quiet of the stacks. Audrey, feeling an odd sense of danger, pulls her coat on quietly, flips her hood up over her blond hair, and pulls herself in tighter against the wall. The dark color of her coat allows her to blend into the chadow cast by the bookshelf behind her. She holds her breath, turns her head a fraction of an inch in order to see, and opens her ears.

Alice White appears a second later, long red hair flying out behind her as she walks through the dimly light shelves. She looks determined, her pale jaw set in a hard angle. An old woman trails behind her, frail and being kept upright by a wicked looking cane.

"You're forgetting yourself," the woman says and Alice pauses, stopping them both within thirty feet of Audrey's makeshift hiding place. If either of them steps to the right and pays enough attention, Audrey will have to explain herself. "You're jeopardizing our lives – lives we've kept for a very long time – for a foolish schoolgirl crush."

At this, Alice whirls on the old woman and in the odd light of the library, both look older than their ages. Audrey is reminded of how Phyllis McCaan had looked younger for that very brief moment.

"I've loved that man for as long as I've known him, and he hasn't a clue that I'm even alive." She closes the distance between herself and the old woman, lowers her voice. Audrey has to strain to hear, nearly gives herself away when her coat rustles in the quiet, but the women are focused on each other and little else. "I'm finally strong enough to do this," Alice says. "After how many dark years, Grandmother?"

"The cardinal rule, Alice. Do no harm. That was the agreement, the one we all made those many years ago." The old woman leans forward, shifting her weight entirely to the cane in order to invade Alice's personal space completely. "You've taken innocent souls to achieve all of this, child. You've damned yourself." She leans back, wavers. "I will not let you damn the rest of us."

Alice tosses her hair, adopts the same coquettish smile she'd given Audrey just yesterday morning. "We'll see," she says. "We'll just wait and see." She turns, then, and disappears into the library, the front doors banging closed a few seconds later. The old woman stares after her and Audrey tries to process what she's just seen and heard.

She wonders how Nathan will react to hearing the girl of his dream – and hers, apparently – has been manipulating him into…what, exactly? Love, lust, passion? And better than that, she's missed her mark completely since it's been Audrey who's been dreaming of Alice's erotic evenings with the Chief of Police.

"I remember when you were like that," the old woman says and Audrey, started from her own thoughts, gasps, shocked to realize the woman can see her. The woman laughs, a dry cackle that rattles both her ancient bones and the floorboards beneath her feet. "She didn't see you, Audrey. Don't worry."

Audrey unfurls herself from her hiding place, pushes her hood back and runs a hand through her tangled hair. The woman takes a moment to study her.

"You were a brunette the last time we met," she says. "And a red head twice before that."

Audrey's heart jumps in the way it always does whenever Lucy Ripley's name is mentioned in polite conversation. "You knew Lucy?" she asks, oddly hopeful.

The woman nods. "And Sarah Partridge and Mabel McCallister."

"Mabel?" Audrey asks, frowning as her mouth forms the name.

The woman grins. "It was the early nineteen hundreds. Mabel was a popular name at the time." She pushes herself to her full height using the cane and takes a few slow, unsteady steps back towards the door. She pauses near the end of the reading table, her fingers running over the spines of the histories sitting there, the motion reminiscent of a lover's caress. "You've been warned before, Audrey. Many, many times before." She taps the leg of the table with her cane. "Heed it this time."

Audrey's mouth goes dry and she feels lightheaded, a ringing appearing in her ears. "Who are you?" she manages.

"My name is Margaret," she says. "But when we first met, we knew each other by far different names." She points to the book in front of Audrey. "We're in those books, my dear, from as far back as they go." She smiles and moves again towards the door. "The answers you're looking for are with Alice. It's up to you to decide how badly you desire them."

Audrey grabs her jacket and is nearly out the front door by the time Margaret Hunt makes it back to the little room beyond the back shelves. As such, she misses the soft laugh Margaret gives as she shuts the door behind her and turns to smile at her many sisters within.

"All roads lead to the truth," she says.

"For those who seek it," Violet Unger says. "For those who do not, all roads lead to ruin."

"What happens to Alice when Audrey finally catches up with her?" Sarah Dubois asks.

"We'll see," Margaret says, pouring herself a cup of tea and sitting near the fire. She smiles a brittle smile around the rim of the cup. "We'll just wait and see."


	9. Very Low Energy

So a couple of chapters ago, I completely spaced and did not give credit where credit was due. The passage Audrey reads about water witches came from a very handy little website called the Coven of Cythrawl that I found while researching the subject. The words are actually from a tome titled "The Conventicle at Ravenshaw Wood". Growing up in northern New England, my childhood was full of interesting folklore and water witches were one of my grandfather's favorite topics. He told stories of dowsers who saved whole towns with their abilities. Check it out - learn some stuff.

Thanks for all the amazing reviews! If my calculations are correct, we're winding down. Sad? Happy? Indifferent? Yeah...me, too.

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><p>Nathan glances at his watch for the hundredth time and frowns. It's half past eleven, which is half an hour later than when Audrey should have barreled through the door of his office and started talking incessantly. Instead, he's alone in his office surrounded by silence.<p>

"I should have gone with her," he mumbles, stabbing keys haphazardly on his keyboard in an attempt to at least look like he's working. "I shouldn't have let her go off on her own with some crazy ass redhead running around drowning people." He growls at the computer screen when it doesn't tell him anything useful. No matter how many times he does it, Alice White's name brings up a blank screen when he types it into the system, which in itself is strange. Even the most law abiding citizen has, at the very least, a parking ticket somewhere. He grabs his phone, punches in Audrey's number, and slams it down when it goes straight to voicemail.

Audrey's nearly forty-five minutes late meeting him at the station, she isn't answering her phone, and the part of his brain that works strictly like a cop is envisioning a menagerie of terrible scenarios – all of which involve her horrible demise.

"Christ," he says, wiping his hands over his face, "I need to get a grip."

The door to his office bangs open, then, and startles him. He looks up from his palms to see Audrey standing in the doorway, hood still up and covered in a dusting of snow. There's a coffee tray in one hand and a white paper bag in the other. She holds them both out, the hood falling down over her eyes.

"A little help," she says.

He jumps up, takes the items from her hands, and steps back to give her room to unbundle. She flips the hood back and snow falls onto the floor. She looks at him while she unzips her jacket, her head cocked to the side.

"You okay?" she asks, pulling her arms out of the jacket. "You look…frazzled."

He nods, turns his back and composes his face while he sets the coffees and bag on his desk. When he turns back around to face her, his expression is less worried and more amused.

"You're nearly an hour late," he says.

"The line at Rosemary's was a mile long," she says, unwrapping her scarf. Static electricity leaves her hair standing on end, a fairy halo that flies out and away from the crown of her head. "And I brought you sustenance, so don't sound so grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy," he says, frowning. "Worried, maybe."

"Chocolate crullers are a cure for that." She grins and he finds himself at a momentary loss for words. Even with her hair a mess, wearing a wool sweater with a ridiculous snowflake pattern across her chest, and bright green socks poking out from underneath flannel lined jeans, she's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

He shakes his head to cover his slip and half smiles. "Oh really?"

"Common New England folklore knowledge," she says. "I spent my morning reading about such things."

The half smile widens and he opens the bag, takes out a cruller, eats a bit. "I feel better already," he says.

"Told ya." She repeats his actions, snatches a coffee cup off the desk. Somehow, she ends up with sugar on her cheek.

"You've got…" He motions with his hand to her cheek and she swipes at it, but misses. He does it without thinking, reaches out and brushes the sugar away with his fingertips. They both go still at the sudden contact, his fingers lingering against her skin. The air in the room seems to stop moving, as does time itself. The moment is tender, intimate, and it's only broken by the sound of Laverne's voice over the intercom on Nathan's desk.

"Chief?"

He drops his hand to his side, his expression apologetic. "Yeah, Laverne?"

"Got a ten-ninety-one down at the shipyard," the dispatcher says, her voice extra gravely through the intercom speaker. "Drowning."

"On it, Laverne. Send a unit down there and get a hold of Julia Carr down at the ME's office."

"Roger that."

He looks at Audrey and she's already re-wrapping the scarf around her neck, disappearing into the layers of fleece and wool once again. He watches her for a minute, wonders what has her lost in her head.

"What did you find out from Vince?" Nathan asks, reaching for his jacket.

She pulls her own jacket on, zips it up as far as it'll go. "Do you know anything about water witches?" she asks.

He finds the flush on her cheeks intriguing, makes a note to ask about it later, when they're not on their way to a dead body and there's a moment of rest in the middle of this particularly chaotic case.

"Dowsers?" he asks, following her out the door of his office and into the bullpen.

"That's what they're called now," she says, "but when they first arrived on the shores of Haven, the locals called them witches because they had an odd command of the water." She pushes the front door open, holds it for him. "I read a handful of accounts in the town histories about these groups of women, always thirteen, who were rumored to have strange abilities."

"Witchcraft, though?" he asks, an eyebrow arched. They make their way down the stairs, already beginning to get slippery with the snow, which is picking up as the day goes on. "We're pretty far removed from Salem, Parker. At least two hundred miles, maybe more."

"You didn't let me finish," she says. They reach the Bronco and climb in quickly, Nathan turning over the engine and blasting the heat for Audrey's benefit. "There was a common theme with those entries, Nathan."

"Hallucinogenic drugs?" He puts the Bronco in gear, pulls out into the street. The tires slide in the slush.

Audrey looks at him, her jaw set. "Fear."

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><p>Julia frowns at the body on the dock, snow collecting on her shoulders. Nathan and Audrey arrive side by side and the hand Nathan keeps on the small of Audrey's back doesn't go unnoticed by the medical examiner. She keeps her comments to herself, though and hides a smirk behind her scarf.<p>

"This keeps getting weirder and weirder," she says.

"No doubt," Nathan says. "Ask Audrey about her theory."

Julia looks at the officer in question and cocks an eyebrow. Audrey, in response, pulls her glove off and flicks Nathan's bare ear, eliciting a yelp. "Ignore him," she says.

"Oh-kay." Julia points to the body. "Male in his late twenties, no identification on him. He's different than the others, though."

"How so?" Nathan asks, rubbing his ear unconsciously.

"For starters, he isn't soaking wet, just damp in places where the snow has accumulated."

"But he drowned?"

She motions to one of the uniformed officers at the edge of the scene and he comes forward. "Tell the Chief what you told me," she says.

"I assessed the scene, sir, and attempted CPR upon realizing the deceased was no longer breathing. Brackish water came up out of his lungs."

"What was the state of the body?"

The officer looks uncomfortable, confused. "He was dry as a bone, sir."

Nathan nods and the officer hurries back to where he stood moments earlier. "Definitely weird."

Audrey rolls her eyes. "Julia, do you know anything about water witches?"

The medical examiner starts and she whirls on Audrey. "Water witches?" Audrey nods. "So you met the coven, then?"

Both of them look at her with wide eyes and startled expressions. She regards them for a moment, then sighs. "Let me get this guy back to the morgue. Meet me at my mom's house in an hour."

"I thought you were staying at the Inn," Audrey says.

"I am, but there's something up there you should both see." She crouches down, pulls the zipper closed on the body bag. The sound echoes in the stifled quiet of the shipyard.

It sounds final.

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><p>Alice watches the crime scene from the deck of Duke Crocker's ship. She was hoping to find the owner of the ship when she arrived twenty minutes earlier, fresh from her encounter with young Steven Miles on the dock, but it had soon become apparent that he was out of town at the moment. So instead, she had stayed onboard to watch the Chief of Police work his magic.<p>

She tucks her recognizable curls up under a black knit cap and steps closer to the edge of the deck, hoping to get a better view of the proceedings. What she sees is Nathan's hand splayed against Audrey Parker's lower back. She feels a bubble of rage build up in her chest.

"You knew there was a chance this wouldn't work," Margaret says from beside her. Alice doesn't flinch, doesn't make any motion to indicate she's heard the old woman. Her grandmother has always had the ability to appear in the places she was least wanted. "Your mother's diary said as much."

"It said I needed to be precise." She reaches out, wraps her hands around the deck railing until her pale knuckles are bone white. "I was nothing if not precise."

"If I remember correctly," Margaret says, peering out at the scene on the docks, "it mentioned the Troubles and warned of a woman with no name."

"The dreams were meant for Nathan."

"And it would appear our Officer Parker intercepted the message along the way." With a strength neither woman knew she possessed, Margaret wraps her hand around her granddaughter's elbow and brings the younger woman to her knees with pain. "That boy, on the dock? The cute little young thing you just couldn't do without? He's the last, Alice." She brings her face in close to Alice's, her true age shining through, and the young woman feels her first real ripple of fear. "This _ends_."

Alice shuts her eyes and nods. The painful pressure on her elbow is released almost immediately and when she opens her eyes, Margaret – or whatever specter had visited her – is gone. She brings herself to her feet, her knees shaky, and makes her way off Crocker's ship. She strides with purpose towards a uniformed officer standing at the edge of the crime scene.

"This is a crime scene, ma'am," he says, holding out a gloved hand to halt her progress.

"I know. I'm looking for Officer Parker," she says, smiling sweetly. "I have information on the crime I'd like to share with her."


	10. Slurred Speech

Holy hiatus, Batman!

Life is, as they say, a bitch. Too much stuff. Hopefully, this chapter isn't a disappointment. It's a little more filler - a build-up to the climax. Thanks for sticking around and for all the great reviews. You guys are wonderful - and very good for my ego. :)

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><p>They're turning onto Main Street when Audrey feels her cell phone vibrate in her jacket pocket.<p>

"Parker," she says, answering it.

"Officer Parker, this is Officer Mars down at the docks. I've got a message for you from a Miss Alice White. She says she has information on the murder."

"I'll bet she does," she mutters. "Can you take Miss White's statement?"

"Uh, no ma'am. She said she'd only speak to you and then she took off."

Audrey sighs, rolls her neck and feels the muscles stretch unhappily. She needs a hot bath, a glass of wine, and a solid night's (or two day's) sleep – not necessarily in that order. If finally sitting down with Alice White and hashing it all out is what it takes for her to get those things, then she's willing to sacrifice her safety for just a little bit.

"Do you know where she went?"

"She headed to the parking lot and took off in a blue Civic. I took down the license plate, just in case."

She struggles with making a snide comment regarding his ability to take down a license plate but not keep custody of a woman with information on a murder. In the end, she bites down on her nasty words and breathes through her nose while seeking calm.

"Bring it to the station, Officer. Make sure there's someone around to relieve you before you leave."

"Yes ma'am."

The phone goes dead and she closes it up, puts it back in her pocket. She turns to look at Nathan. His bare hands are white knuckled on the steering wheel and his jaw is tense. His profile looks angry.

"You're preemptively pissed off," she says.

"Because you're going to go meet up with her."

Audrey turns back to watch the road through the windshield of the Bronco. The snow has steadily increased and the white flakes hit the glass like stars in warp speed. It's getting darker outside, as well, the day disappearing into the early evening.

"She's a murderer and we've got nothing physical to tie her to it."

He says nothing and the cab of the truck fills with the tension between them. Eventually, he comes to a stop outside the station, leaves the truck running as he turns to look at her. "I can come with you."

"It's what she's expecting, Nathan."

"Or she's expecting you to come alone."

"Maybe, but what else have we got right now." She reaches for the door handle. "We've got to put a bulletin out on her car, see if anyone knows where she might be. When we figure out where she is, you can follow me. That way, if anything happens, you'll be there to catch her in the act."

He stares at her, his mouth parted. "That is the worst plan I've ever heard."

She has a moment where she wants to laugh, just burst out into hysterical laughter because of all the crazy ass things she's experienced in the last year, a witch lusting after Nathan and killing people tops the list. And because, enclosed in this truck with her partner and best friend with the threat of a nutso looming over them, all Audrey can think about is how badly she wants to crawl into Nathan's lap and kiss him until they both die of exhaustion.

Instead, she opens the door and steps out into the swirling snow. "Unless you've got a better one, you can either help me do this or wait here at the station for me to drag that bitch in kicking and screaming." She smiles suddenly, her lips widening in a very real and honest grin. "Your move, Wurnous."

She slams the door shut and walks up the steps into the station house, aware of his eyes watching her the whole way.

* * *

><p>She waits for her in the one place she knows Audrey will look. She waits for her while standing in the snow, the white flakes catching in her red hair. She watches the storm roll over the small coastal village beyond the cliff face.<p>

She feels old, suddenly, so very much her age. For the first time since she started this cycle, she wonders if she's gone about it the wrong way. She wonders if she's let her own desires take control; but then she sees Nathan's smiling face in her mind's eye and she brushes away the uncertainty.

She's waited a lifetime for Nathan Wurnous.

_Damn the world_.

* * *

><p>They stare at the sign for Tuwiuwok Bluff, the faded white letters carved and painted into the piece of pine that marks the cliff where Haven started. The wind has picked up, whipping snow around them. Audrey's face is frozen, has been since they stepped out of the truck, and while Nathan's skin is pink and raw, he doesn't notice.<p>

"It always come back to this place, doesn't it?" Audrey asks after a silent minute.

"Seems to," Nathan says, his hands shoved into his pockets in such a way his shoulders hunch up around his ears.

"Margaret said Alice felt a kinship to this place, to Haven. And you're the one who told me the town started here." She bounces on her heels, attempting to bring warmth back into her feet. "The passage I read, it said that the villagers watched the boats roll in from a bluff that overlooked the town." She motions toward the snow covered path beyond with her elbows, her hands firmly stuck into her pockets. "Seems like this would be the best place, the oldest place, to do that, right?"

"Right."

She motions over her shoulder. "Plus, there's a blue Honda Civic in the parking lot with the same license plate Officer Mars took down."

He seems to fight a smile, shakes his head. "You really are my best detective."

"I'm your only detective."

His gaze is immediately intense when it connects with hers and she has a flash of false memory, of the look he gave her in her dream. She's instantly warm, from her head to her toes.

"You're my only friend, Audrey."

"Don't let Duke hear you say that; he'd be crushed."

"Stop pretending like this isn't a big deal."

She sighs. "Nathan, I'll be fine. I've got a gun."

His jaw sets and his blue eyes bore holes in her soul. "Don't be a hero."

She does it on impulse, the sudden need to reassure him. She rushes forward so quickly she almost knocks him over, his arms coming up around her to keep his balance, and she presses her lips against his. It's fast, it's chaste, and it's a promise.

_I'll come back._

She steps back a fraction of an inch and his arms drop. She looks at him one last time before heading off in the direction of the bluff, tracking footprints through the snow. She doesn't look back – she can't. She's already far too tempted to turn around and jump him.

Instead, she trudges along until the trees hang overhead and block out what little light is left from the day. The only noise is the snow falling around her and snow crunching under the soles of her boots. She stops when she sees red in the distance and the silence is deafening.

"Audrey Parker," Alice says and her smile is colder than the winter air. "You got my message."


	11. Apathy

It's getting crazy...and if anyone gets confused, I apologize. I'll be glad to answer questions - just message me. :)

Thanks for the great comments, the kind words, and the continued readership. I love you guys!

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><p>He's glad he can't feel the cold; waiting for Audrey in the Bronco would suck if he knew his toes were frozen solid or his ears were on the verge of frostbite. But since none of that registers with him, he sits in the Bronco, occasionally running the heat for short bursts of time, and waits.<p>

He sits and he waits and he thinks and he comes to a very sudden, very unsettling realization.

He can't remember his life before Audrey Parker arrived and tried to drive herself off a cliff. He knows he had a life, knows it was mundane and boring and full of routine, but he can't really remember it.

He also knows he can't imagine his life without her and watching her walk off into the pine forest made him feel, for just a split second, like a real boy – he could have sworn he felt his heart pound in his chest and a rock settle in his stomach.

And now he sits and he waits and he thinks…

* * *

><p>"This was <em>supposed<em> to be easy," Alice says, her cold smile fading as she stares at Audrey.

There's venom in Alice's voice, acid dripping with her words. Audrey's felt hate before, but never like this – and never directed towards her. She feels the chill of it even through the many layers of warmth she's wrapped herself within.

"My mother's instructions were precise and I followed them to the letter," Alice continues, her voice carrying through the snow.

Audrey takes a moment to choose her words carefully. "You did a spell? For Nathan?"

Alice's expression becomes haughty. "That's simplifying it greatly, Detective Parker."

Audrey's patience is thinning, has been thinning since she got that phone call from Officer Mars. "Well, then, explain it to me, Alice." She shakes the snow off her shoulders, takes a few steps closer toward Alice. "That's why we're up here, isn't it? So you can brag all about it and then maybe throw me off the cliff?" She sticks her hands in her pockets, uses the inner zipper on her right side to get into her jacket and unholster her weapon, all while keeping her eyes and attention on Alice. "Let's get to it, then; it's cold and I've got dinner plans with my partner."

Alice narrows her eyes at this. "Why, Detective?" She steps closer, her boots crunching on the hard-packed snow. "Why did the dreams reach you, instead of him?" Audrey's grip tightens on the gun in her pocket. "It should have worked the first time, after the man on the beach. The woman, she should have grounded it. But the boy, the boy on the docks – that should have been the definitive moment."

Audrey's skin prickles. "So you killed those people."

Alice waves her hand dismissively. "That's a strong word for it, 'kill'. I took from them what I needed to continue on, to make my way towards Nathan." Her eyes glow unnaturally green in the gray light around them.

"The histories," Audrey says, confused. "They never said anything about water witches taking lives. I don't understand."

Alice's tilts her head to the side. "Water witches?" She sounds genuinely taken aback, perplexed.

"I read the books, Alice. I read about the boats landing in the cove across from this Bluff, about the women who came onto the shore and brought the sea with them."

Alice stares at her a moment longer before she starts to laugh. The sound is a dry cackle that shakes snow from the pine boughs around them. It travels beyond the Bluffs, blankets the entire area in a cruel bubble of mocking.

"Water witches," she says, the cackle subsiding to a girlish hiccup. "I haven't been called a witch since, oh lord, the seventeenth century I think."

Audrey feels the world tilt on its axis. "But the histories…"

"The histories were accurate, yes. We did, in fact, arrive in boats all those years ago. But we're not what you think we are, not what you've incorrectly deciphered from that vague paragraph written by scared pilgrims." The air glows around her, her skin pale and smooth, her hair bright and red. She's so young, too vibrant and beautiful to be as old as she claims to be. "They called us witches because they didn't understand."

"What are you, Alice?"

"We are _ondine_, Detective Parker. Ancient and soulless."

* * *

><p><em>He's so close behind her, his own climax approaching quickly. She's tight around him, her body moving in time with his even though she's beyond, caught up in her own bliss. His back strains – so very close – and she coos in his ear, coaxing him forward.<em>

_And as he feels himself near completion, she cackles loudly, breaking the moment…_

He wakes with a start, his face flushed and his jeans tight. He opens the door and falls out into the snow, the cold having the desired effect though he doesn't realize it. He can't believe he fell asleep, scrambles to push up his sleeve and seek out the time. It's been nearly an hour since Audrey ventured into the woods.

The air fills with a violent, ancient cackle – not unlike the sound that Alice had made in his dream – and he lifts his head in the direction of the trail. It takes him only a second to take off at a dead run into the wilderness towards the laughter.

Towards Audrey.

* * *

><p>Alice smiles, then, and there are rotten teeth behind dry, cracked lips. She's ancient and wrinkled, her hair no longer vibrant and thick. She looks mummified, diseased. "Do you see me, now, Detective Parker?" she asks, her voice harsh. "Do you see me for what I am?"<p>

The icy tingle of fear walks down Audrey's spine. For the first time since she left Nathan in the parking lot, she's worried. She had expected something strange, something Trouble-esque. She hadn't necessarily expected a vindictive, psychotic water creature in serious need of a chemical peel and some Botox.

"Why Nathan?" she asks. "Why focus so intently on him? Why kill for him?"

"We are cursed to live forever unless we can find a soul." The winter wind picks up, cold tendrils whipping around them as the snow grows heavier, a dense fog moving up and around them. "My mother did just that; she met a fisherman and fell in love. He married her, gave her the child she needed to become mortal."

Audrey is confused, so incredibly confused. "I don't understand!" She has to shout to be heard over the wind.

"I want a soul, Audrey!" Alice reaches out, her arms lightning fast, and grabs Audrey by the front of her jacket. Audrey struggles, tries to pull away. She pulls her hand from her pocket, the gun wrapped in her gloved fingers, but the movement is hindered by her layers and the gun falls to the ground, disappears into the snow. She's defenseless. "Nathan need only love me. I need only bear a child and I'll be mortal – I'll no longer need to feed upon the lives of others to survive."

"Alice, there has to be another way…"

The ancient woman yanks her arm back, bringing Audrey's face close to hers. The world goes silent around them.

"He's my salvation, Audrey, and you're the only thing standing in the way of that."

Boots crunch on the snow behind them and Audrey turns her head to see Nathan running towards them, his weapon out and pointed in their direction. Alice's surprise lasts barely a moment before she drags Audrey with her towards the cliff's edge.

"Alice, stop!" Nathan shouts. "Enough is enough!" They stare at each other over Audrey's head and she feels the tension in Alice's hand relax, her grip loosening. "Let Audrey go and we'll talk about this. We'll figure it out."

"She's ruined everything, Nathan!" Alice screams, shaking Audrey like she's a rag doll.

In the past year, she's managed to keep her calm throughout everything. Keep calm and carry on has been her motto while dealing with the Troubles. But right now, standing on the edge of a ridiculously high cliff, all Audrey can think about is how scared she is and how badly she wishes she'd kissed Nathan properly before she'd left him in the parking lot earlier.

"Alice, I'm asking you nicely," Nathan says, his voice dangerous. "This is the last time I'm going to say it. Let. Audrey. _Go_."

They're at the edge of the cliff, the waves crashing against the cliff face. Audrey looks up into Alice's face, sees the malicious intent reflected there, and knows exactly what's about to happen. She turns to Nathan, opens her mouth to scream, and feels Alice's footing slip just as the bullet from Nathan's gun slams into the old woman's chest.

She has a brief moment when time slows and she sees Nathan rush towards them. She locks her eyes with his, wishes she didn't see the terror and heartbreak there. Then the world goes upside down and white and they fall from Tuwiuwok Bluff, tumbling down towards the raging Atlantic waters below.


	12. Progressive Loss of Consciousness

My favorite review of the last chapter was simply this: "You are evil." Muahahahaha.

This is most likely the second to last chapter. It's been a long and wonderful ride and I'm proud of myself for actually finishing this story - it was a struggle at times, that's for sure. You guys and your amazing reviews and nice encouragements have kept me going, kept me working hard to make you all proud of the end result.

So thanks. :-)

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><p><em>They arrived in boats, landing at what would later become Sheppard's Cove. There were ten of them in all, each a woman of a different age, shape, and size. They waded through the shallow water and onto the shore, carrying bags on their backs, their feet bare.<em>

_They walked up the rocky dunes towards the dirt road above and the few pilgrims they passed whispered "witch" in harsh undertones. The word spread like wildfire through the town and soon they called them water witches, sorceress who had simply come from the sea._

_In truth, they were __**ondine**__, as ancient as the water from which they rose, and the lilt to their voices brought the natives closer than the pilgrims dared to tread. The natives gave them land to live on, assistance when they needed it. They lived quietly, taking as little from their hosts as was needed. The natives understood what they needed, what they were, and they kept watch over those independent women, protecting them from the suspicious voices that rose up from the little village on the sea._

_Over the years, it became more and more difficult to live on such a small amount. The longer they stayed on land, separated from the cold, northern waters, the weaker they became, the more they needed to feed to survive. One warm, summer night, in a heated frenzy, an ondine took too much from a native, a man whom she had planned to marry, had planned to bear a child with, and he died, drowning in the waters of his lover's curse._

_The pilgrims pounced upon the death like vultures, declaring it a sign from God that the ondine were evil, and they set forth to rid the town of the blasphemous women. They separated them from their native protectors, corralled them on what the natives called Tuwiuwok. They forced them over the cliff and back into the sea._

_Some were stronger than others and they survived, fighting their way through the raging waters to the jagged land below. Those who lived, made their way back to the land the natives had given them. They stayed there, waiting, until the godly moved on and were replaced by northerners with a love of the land and the sea._

* * *

><p>She aches all over, her limbs heavy and her head pounding with a consistent, rhythmic beat. She drags Alice's limp body behind her as she swims towards shore, the tiniest strip of land she can see seated at the base of the cliff from which they just plunged.<p>

The fall should have killed them both, but Audrey's cat-like luck struck again and instead of hitting the rocks, she landed in a tidal pocket, deep enough to cushion her fall. She isn't unscathed, though. Her left arm burns and aches in an all too familiar way. It's most likely broken, fractured at best.

She thinks Alice is dead, her pale and ancient body far too light for a living being. It's not until they finally reach land that Audrey has a moment to check her pulse. It's faint and fading. She brings herself up to her knees, shivering violently, and fans out her right hand on Alice's chest, covers it with her left. She's set to do compressions, but the instant she leans down and puts weight on her left arm, the tenuous bone snaps and she rears back in excruciating pain, howls into the encroaching darkness.

Alice's green eyes fly open.

"It would seem you win this one, Detective," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Audrey moves slowly towards her, reaching out with her good hand to take hold of the woman's frail one. "How old are you, Alice?"

Alice smiles without warmth, her eyes focusing on a point far above Audrey's head. Audrey lets go of her icy hand and moves away. "Younger than you," she hisses.

Audrey watches the life – all those hundreds of years – leave the woman on the ground. "Ondine," she says, falling back into the snow. She's freezing, will freeze to death if she doesn't get moving. She pushes herself to her feet, her arm hanging limply at her side, and she starts the trek up the hill towards the top of the cliff.

She wonders, briefly, as she struggles upward, if this was what Julia was planning to tell them tonight. It makes her laugh, which warms her enough to keep her going up and up and away.

Up and away from Alice White.

Up and towards Nathan.


	13. Weak Pulse

Okay...so I lied. It's like the end of The Lord of the Rings - there's like three different endings, and they're all kind of necessary but also unnecessary. So this is the second ending...and there's one more after this, full of lemony goodness (my first...I'm kind of terrified...so it's taking awhile to write since I want it to be perfect [horrible analogy]).

Thanks for all the good reviews! Happy New Year!

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><p>Her body is cold, so beyond hypothermic that she doesn't actually feel her knees give out on her. The only reason she knows she's falling is the ground reaches up to meet her, snow covered and unforgiving. In some lost recess of her brain, she thinks she's dying. She knows the symptoms of hypothermia, remembers them from her first aid training all those years ago. She opens her mouth to say this to the approaching figure, but she can't pull her thoughts together well enough to verbalize it. Instead, her teeth chatter and she forms the one word she can remember.<p>

"Nathan…"

* * *

><p>She shifts in and out of consciousness, aware but unaware. The snow is gone and she feels heavy, numb and weighted. She can hear a heartbeat in her ear, much faster than her own, and she manages enough energy to move her cheek against the sold mass surrounding her.<p>

She feels the scratch of wool.

She attempts to look up, cannot raise her head more than a fraction of an inch, and instead settles against the wool.

"Hang on, Parker," the mass says. "Just hang on."

* * *

><p>There are blankets all around her, steadily beeping monitors in the background, and a cast on her forearm. She still feels weighted, her limbs heavy and uncooperative, but the fog is clearing. She feels awake, alert, and grounded.<p>

She moves her hand, brushes against wool and flannel and bare skin. Her bedside companion stirs, his head turning to the side so bleary eyes can take her in. She smoothes her hand over his hair and he blinks.

"Hi," she says, her voice hoarse. She smiles, clears her throat, tries again. "Surprise."

He sits up, her hand falling from his head, and cracks his back without knowing it. He yawns, leans away from her. "Arm's broke," he says.

She notices the change immediately. "You're angry," she says.

He ignores her. "Doc set it. You didn't lose any fingers or toes, though. Surprising, considering how cold it was and how long you were in the water."

"Nathan…"

He frowns at her, his whole posture tight with fury and a hint of something else – panic, relief? "You're an idiot, Parker." He scrubs his hand over his face. "You're stubborn and you don't listen."

"Like I knew I was going to fall over a cliff," she says before she can stop herself.

"How the hell else did you think that was going to play out?" he growls, his voice soft and loud at the same time.

She looks at him, then, really looks at him and takes in the rumpled clothes and scruffy jaw, the weariness around his eyes, and she realizes why he's so angry.

"I scared you," she says and it isn't a question.

His shoulders slump and the tension in his jaw ebbs. He leans toward her again, rests his elbows on his knees. He looks at the ground for a long period of time, but eventually he brings his eyes back up to meet hers. The affection she finds there is staggering, the implication more so.

"You scared the shit out of me, Audrey," he says. His voice is rough, thick.

She holds her hand out and he stares at it a solid minute before taking it in his own. "I'm sorry," she says, squeezing his fingers. "I'm so sorry."

"You're alive, though," he says and she nods. "You're alive and Alice is dead and I'm as confused as ever."

She smiles. "I'd like to go home," she says.

He nods. "I'll go get the doc," he says and stands. He lets go of her hand, but not before squeezing it hard just once. "Don't go anywhere."

She doesn't plan on it.

* * *

><p>Nathan takes her home and helps her out of her coat. There's an awkward moment when he thinks he should offer to help her undress, but he decides against it. He tells her he'll be by tomorrow with the paperwork and takeout and enough groceries to get her through the next few days until she can maneuver a shopping cart on her own. She sees him to the door and on an impulse neither of them really understands, Audrey hugs him with her good arm and he kisses her forehead.<p>

It makes the floor drop out from underneath her.

Word makes it through Haven quickly and Julia arrives shortly after Nathan leaves. She whirls into Audrey's apartment carrying a grocery bag in one hand and a stack of files in the other. The snow seems to have stopped for the moment. She puts everything down on the kitchen table, turns to Audrey, and immediately starts talking.

"What the hell? One minute, you're coming up to my mom's place for dinner and the next you're going headfirst over a cliff. You don't do anything half-assed, do you Audrey? And what about Nathan? He was worried sick. He slept at the hospital for three days while you were in and out of that hypothermic coma. You nearly died – twice. They had to work on you in the ambulance, CPR, paddles, the works. None of us knew…"

Audrey places her good hand on her friend's arm. "Take a deep breath, Julia. I'm fine." Julia rolls her eyes and Audrey smiles. "I was going to offer you some coffee, but you seem high strung enough…"

"Just shut up and put a pot on."

"Are those cupcakes?" she asks, pointing to the grocery bad.

"What do you think?" Julia says, sarcasm in her voice and a smile on her face.

Audrey puts the coffee on and they wait in silence while it brews. When the dripping stops, she brings the pot over to the table, follows it up with two mugs. Julia pours as Audrey sits.

"How did you know what happened?" she asks.

"You and Nathan never showed. I was heading down to the station when a call went out for a body washed up on the rocks at the base of Tuwiuwok. I thought…" She trails off, takes a large gulp of coffee.

"A broken arm, couple of bruised ribs, and a bad case of hypothermia," Audrey says. "No biggie."

"God, Audrey, you're an idiot."

"So I've been told." She sips her coffee. "Was it Alice White's body?"

Julia nods. "Yup, but it was hard to tell just by looking at her. She looked ancient." She pulls her scarf off, drapes it over the back of her chair. "How long was she in the water?"

"Fifteen minutes, maybe."

"No," Julia says, surprised.

Audrey nods. "We hit the water and as soon as I surfaced, I grabbed her."

"You're like a cat," Julia says, sipping her coffee.

"I should be down a couple lives just from that fall."

"Not to sound morbid," Julia says, pulling cupcakes from the grocery bag, "but you shouldn't have survived."

"No kidding." She points to the folders opposite them. The movement reminds her of just how sore she is. Her shoulders feel like they're bearing a heavy load, her muscles tight and aching. "What are these?"

"Mom's files, as promised. If Mohammed cannot go to the mountain…" Audrey smiles around the lip of her mug. "You probably already know what Alice was, considering what she looked like when she died."

"Ondine."

Julia nods. "Water spirits." She opens a folder, turns it around for Audrey to see. There are drawings and notes, most in Doc Carr's familiar scrawl. Some, though, look like Audrey's own handwriting – though she knows she didn't write them.

"They're cursed to live for eternity unless they can fall in love with a mortal man and bear a child."

Audrey turns the page, engrossed in explanations and histories. Julia continues.

"Mom suspected the women in the library of witchcraft, but not in the Puritan sense of the word. It was Margaret who eventually explained it to her." She fishes through another folder, pulls out an old photograph from the sixties. It's of Margaret, Doc Carr, and Audrey – only her hair is short and curly and very much red.

"That must be Sarah," Audrey says softly.

Julia nods. "You've got quite a history with Margaret."

Audrey frowns. "That's what she tells me."

"Well, it'll be a long time before any of us figure it out completely, I'm afraid."

"Why's that?" Audrey asks, pulling the photograph toward her.

Julia finishes her coffee. "They're gone."

Audrey looks up sharply from the picture. "Margaret?"

"All of them. Cleared out and disappeared into the night." She looks into her mug. "Or into the sea."

"And Alice?" Part of her is afraid the body's gone, that the old woman she fished out of the water is no longer dead and is instead waiting for her somewhere in the world.

Julia smiles, a little smile that seems to hold a big secret. "Taken care of," she says. She stands, reaches for her coat, and pulls a small metal tin from a pocket inside it. She sets it on the table between them.

"Ashes to ashes," Audrey says.

Julia pushes the tin with her forefinger. "And dust to bitchy dust."


	14. Shivering

So...I lied. There's another chapter after this one. Nothing crazy, but a final roundup. And I can't promise it won't take me forever to post it, but I will eventually finish it off. No pun intended. ;-)

Oh, and this is the first sex scene I've EVER written, so if it's terrible, my apologies...first times are rarely glorious, right?

* * *

><p>"I know Maine has some freaky weather," Audrey says, staring out her front door at the snow coming down, "but this storm is nuts."<p>

Nathan comes up behind her, warming her more than the fire inside the apartment could with equal parts masculinity and body heat. There's a war of smells wrapping around her – takeout food from the kitchen, wood from the fire, the wool of her sweater, and Nathan's aftershave.

When he arrived twenty minutes earlier, bearing food and a get well card from the guys at the station, the cars in the Gull parking lot were still mostly visible. Now, the ground is covered in mounds of white, the snow coming up over tires and covering the road.

"How did you make it down here in one piece?" Audrey asks, still watching the snow fall.

"The Bronco's tough," he says.

"Driver's pretty tough, too," she says, turning to smile at him. She takes in the smirk on his face and the pink in his cheeks from the fire and feels that little part of her heart that goes mushy for her partner disintegrate into pure goo. "You're probably stuck here," she says.

"Guess so."

She grins back, shakes her head. "But you already had that figured out, didn't you?"

Nathan's smirk turns into a grin. "Yup."

* * *

><p>She can't stop watching the snow. It's different from the snow she knew growing up in Ohio, different even from the snow in Boston (which turns gray almost the instant it hits the pavement). This is heavy, wet snow, falling in huge flakes that get caught in her eyelashes. She wants to stand outside, her face tilted up to the sky, and catch as many as she can with her tongue.<p>

"I'm not an expert on cold," Nathan says from the couch, "but even I know it's freezing outside." She turns to look at him with a sardonic smile and he points to the sky. "It doesn't snow when it's warm out."

"Har har," Audrey says. She turns back to the storm. "It's beautiful."

Warmth settles around her shoulders – the quilt that Nathan had given her after hers tried to eat her that first week in Haven – and he comes to stand beside her, leans against the doorframe opposite her so he can her watch the snow fall. She pulls the edges of the quilt tighter around her with her good hand and steps closer to her partner.

"The first few storms always are," Nathan says. "Then it gets colder and you start to wonder if the snow's ever going away."

They stay that way, standing quietly and watching the town come under the spell of a white blanket. There's a peaceful calm to Haven in that moment Audrey wants to bottle and save for a later date when all hell breaks loose. It's a welcome feeling after the chaos of the last few days.

"My nose is cold," she says eventually and Nathan huffs a laugh.

"Let's get you back inside before you catch hypothermia – again."

"You're on a roll, Wurnous," she says, stepping back inside so he can close the door.

"Coffee?" he asks.

"Sure. I think there're a couple of board games in the rafters over there, too," she says, motioning him towards a poorly lit corner of the apartment. "They're probably from the seventies, though."

"Most good things come from the seventies."

She throws a smile over her shoulder that makes him weak in the knees.

* * *

><p>They play Jenga – only once, since they both remember halfway through that they've never fully understood the purpose of the game. They play Scrabble – six games and he beats her, four to two. They even play a solid game of Monopoly that leads to a heated discussion regarding property taxes and the value of the dollar in 1978 – Audrey wins this one, though she suspects Nathan lets her. They drink a pot of coffee, devour a half dozen cupcakes (Julia knew she'd rather have get well cupcakes instead of get well flowers), and come to the conclusion their lives were suspiciously boring before they met each other.<p>

"You've got frosting on your face," Nathan says, pointing. There's a smudge of red frosting (the cupcakes are autumn themed, since it's technically still fall, despite the layers upon layers of snow outside) just under her left eye.

"Where?" Audrey asks, her hand fluttering around helplessly. She rubs at the corner of her mouth – the wrong corner of her mouth – and Nathan laughs. "Did I get it?" she asks.

"Not even close." He leans across the table, uses his thumb to brush the frosting from the apple of her cheek. She goes stock still, her eyes wide and focused on his. It's suddenly very warm inside Audrey's little apartment. Nathan feels the heat from her flushed skin under the pad of his thumb, has to forcibly pull his hand away from her cheek for want of boundaries.

He forgets for a second, though, and licks the frosting off his thumb before his brain can remind him of where he is, who he's with, and what the consequences might be.

Audrey's eyes watch him.

"Always been a fan of butter cream," he says softly.

It happens so quickly Audrey can't even be sure it's real. She stands and moves around him to the kitchen. With her back to him, she offers him more coffee. When he doesn't say anything, she turns back around and finds herself caught up in everything that is Nathan: his smell, his hands, and, best of all, his mouth.

Her back hits the refrigerator door, the stainless steel cool against the thin fabric of her thermal undershirt. Her sore muscles protest and she yelps a little, both in pain and surprise. He pulls back, looks at her, worried.

"I fell from a fifty foot cliff," she says, smiling, her fingers tracing the outline of his mouth.

"Do you want me to stop?"

She feels like she's been waiting a lifetime for this precise moment, a moment that's been playing out in another woman's dreams for the last two weeks. She doesn't want him to stop. She wants to rip his clothes off, tackle him to the floor, and do wonderfully dirty things to him.

But she's down an arm and her body aches, so instead of doing that she shakes her head and kisses his jaw. "No, Nathan. I want you to take it easy."

He smiles, moves his mouth south to her neck. His lips are hot on her skin, his fingers cool as they skim over the top of her jeans. She arches into him.

"I feel the need to apologize," Nathan says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. He stops kissing her long enough to bring his eyes up to hers. His fingers continue their exploration, though.

Her good fingers work with her cast-impeded fingers to undo the buttons on his flannel shirt, each one revealing more and more of a fitted blue tank underneath. While he's busy staring at her, she leans forward and kisses the skin exposed by his open shirt.

She hears his breath hitch and she smiles against him. He pulls out of the reach of her mouth, slowly lifts the hem of her shirt, skimming her ribs as he gently brings it up and over her head. He tosses the shirt over his shoulder. The wooden blocks of the forgotten Jenga game scatter across the coffee table in the distance as the shirt plows into them. He steps back just a few inches to admire the view before him.

"Whatever it is that you're about to apologize for, it's unnecessary," she says. He leans in, kisses the swell of her breast. She moans, unable to stop herself. "Good lord. This is better than an apology."

He hums against her skin and her knees threaten to give out. "I knew I'd get stuck." He undoes the tie on her lounge pants, pulls the knot out slowly. She feels tortured, hotter than she's ever been in her entire life – at least the life she can remember. He's doing it on purpose, too, and all because she told him to take it easy.

Something tells her that if she was sporting two good arms, they'd be naked by now…and well on their way to a second round.

"Then I should apologize, too," she says, her pants pooling on the floor at her feet. She steps out of them and in one incredibly smooth move, she's in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist like a belt, and he's stumbling towards her bed across the apartment, his hands unhooking her black bra as he goes.

"For what?" His voice is muffled by her breast, her nipple perfectly encased in his hot mouth. It takes all her willpower not to whimper and buck against him. He deposits her on the bed, straying for just a moment to undo the button on his jeans. She watches him hungrily, wanting, as he pulls his pants off and tosses them in a corner.

Boxers. She knew it.

He kneels before her on the bed and she backs up to give him room. He grabs her hips, keeps her still, and pulls her black underwear off her, settles himself between her thighs. Her heart stops. She lays there, naked, his eyes on hers.

"For what?" he asks again, his breath tickling the curls in front of him.

"When I told you to come over for dinner, I knew you'd get stuck here, too."

He smiles, kisses the inside of her thigh, and slowly – so very slowly – works his way up to exactly where she wants him. His mouth molds perfectly to the apex of her thighs, his tongue warm and skilled and she's wanted him for so long that when it swirls around her entrance and laves her clit, she shatters under him.

"If Alice could see us now," Audrey says, giggling and breathless and Nathan shakes his head, smirking as he works his way back up to her mouth.

It's awkward with the cast, and they laugh more than they do anything else, but later, as he enters her and they start a rhythmic dance, she smiles against his mouth and breathes him in and thinks how lucky she is to be alive to feel all of this.

He thinks the same thing.


End file.
